


Secrets

by coughsyrup



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: A little bit of accidental exhibitionism, Ace Charon, Asphyxiation, M/M, Other, Smoke Tentacles, Trans Hermes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:27:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coughsyrup/pseuds/coughsyrup
Summary: A big skeleton bloke and a twinky trans God. Lots of asphyxiation and smoke tentacles. Queer porn by a queer person for other queer people.
Relationships: Charon/Hermes (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	Secrets

Zagreus knows something's up the moment he opens the door to Charon's shop, this time in Elysium. The lush meadow around him is just the same as ever, but there's something… odd in the air. He supposes it must have something to do with Hermes being here this time.

It's not the first time he's come across the winged God when electing to peruse Charon's wares, but it's rare enough that it does cause some surprise. Usually, however, Hermes continues his standard course of talking a thousand miles a minute when Zagreus enters. Sometimes he's even gotten a free boon from him while visiting, on the understanding that Zagreus doesn't need to tell anyone that Hermes has been spending his breaks here. This time, however, he's… silent.

"Alright, mate?" Zagreus nods to the skeletal boatman with his usual courteous manner. Charon groans, low and slow as ever, but there's something… odd about it. And Hermes doesn't say a word, just gives a very pink cheeked, tight-lipped smile towards the God of blood when he looks over to him.

"You, uh… You alright there, Hermes?" He asks again, just getting a speedy nod in return. Strange.

Zagreus sees the messenger God fidgeting as he chooses the Centaur's heart, then hears him give a noise a bit like a stifled cough. Although he shoots the other an expression of concerned curiosity, he just gets another tight-lipped smile and no offering of words. How uncharacteristically silent, he thinks to himself - he'd hand over some Nectar to the God just to hear his response, if only he had some with him.

As it is, he simply pays Charon his due gold and gives them both a wave goodbye as he exits to the next room, the promise of gemstones awaiting him. The door is barely half closed behind him before he hears a spluttering cough from Hermes in the now inaccessible room.

"You're so cruel, man," Hermes gets out between coughs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as if the smoke could stain it, purple tendrils trickling out and dissipating into the air. There's an amused, gravelly noise from his long-time companion in turn, stuttered growls of laughter that have Hermes weak at the knees. But that could just be the smoke curling and creeping up the insides of his thighs, one tendril wrapping slowly around his leg in gentle circles before it solidifies enough to sharply nudge his legs a little further apart. The messenger God, with an eager and mischievous grin, allows himself to comply.

"Gguhhhh," the boatman lets out pointedly, and Hermes nods. It's true, Theseus and Asterius should occupy their redblooded Prince for some time to come. They have time to themselves, ideally undisturbed. Although Hermes likes to think his little cover up was convincing enough.

As if to disprove his point, Charon raises a cold, bone hand to Hermes's cheek, caressing it tenderly as he lets out a guttural sigh and further plumes of amethyst smoke fall languidly from his hollow maw. The curls of fog probe between his companion's eagerly parted lips, jaw held open by Charon's unforgiving grip. He watches the winged God's eyes almost roll back in his head as the smoke pushes back into where it had been only moments prior, filling the cavity of his throat again almost entirely. He listens to the moans Hermes makes, so much more musical and coherent than his own sounds devoid of any voice box - or muscles at all, for that matter. He knows Hermes doesn't mind, that he more than enjoys being filled entirely with Charon's lifeforce like this, but the boatman still feels the need to soothe his uncharacteristic guilt by coaxing his lover to the bliss he's capable of feeling, over and over again.

It's not just guilt that drives him, of course. There is certainly an unconventional sort of pleasure to be found in it - pleasure that Charon had once thought himself entirely incapable of knowing. It's a strange arrangement, but it suits them both so well. 

He pushes deeper, feeling Hermes's windpipe constrict and spasm around the forceful intrusion until Charon allows the smoke to aerate more, letting his lover gulp in little pockets of oxygen through the blockage in his throat. The only air he can grasp is under Charon's explicit permission. The thought sends a morbid shiver through him, one only doubled as Hermes whines in clear arousal around him. 

Charon growls again - a sweet, affectionate teasing of the messenger God's eagerness already - and feels his smaller lover's thighs tremble within the grip of his smoke curled tightly around them. He nudges them further apart and gets another whine of pleasure for his efforts.

The boatman's smoke moves slowly - far too slowly for Hermes's liking. The teasing actions force another impatient whine out, and an expression that would be akin to a pout if Hermes's lips weren't spread wide to accommodate the plume of bitter smoke heavy on his tongue. Charon watches the messenger start to drool around him and gives another shiver of hunger to watch his most prized possession in such a state. He doesn't give in yet though, not until another tendril of his lifeforce is commanded forward to wrap around the other God's wrists, tugging them in firmly against each other and yanking them up above his head, tethered by the rope-like smoke.

Only now, with Hermes squirming on tiptoes, the wings of his sandals fluttering to keep him balanced, his thighs spread and his back arched from the makeshift bondage, his lips spread wide as he drools around Charon's smoke… Only now, the boatman decides, will he indulge his lover properly. 

The tendrils of semi-solid fog drift upwards, marking their territory up the smooth insides of Hermes's thighs. Trying to wordlessly beg for more, the messenger God does his best to squirm and wriggle as if he could move down onto the other God's lifeforce without Charon simply moving away again to chastise him. In his shop, just as on his barge, the boatman is solely in control. It suits them both so much better like this, even if Hermes tries to push his luck sometimes. Charon shoots him a look through hollow eye sockets, one that only his companion - or perhaps his brothers - could claim to ever accurately understand. The messenger God reluctantly stills again, and the smoke resumes its upwards climb.

Charon can't exactly feel it, the way flesh and nerves can feel stimuli, but he's aware of the way the wetness between Hermes's thighs permeates the smoke and causes him to have to solidify the substance more firmly. He can sense the heat there and he can feel the confines of that tight channel, the way Hermes tries to clench around the tendril and finally meets resistance inside him. More than that, he can see and hear the way Hermes reacts, the muffled moans that double in volume and rise in pitch. The way he squirms against the restraints that bind his wrists, trying to push down more to take more of his lover's lifeforce inside of himself. That, more than the few sensations he can directly feel, is what drives him. It's what makes him push further, slowly exploring the insides of Hermes's channel to find the little bumps and ridges that have his lover bucking and moaning again.

A secondary, smaller tendril pushes through the parting of his lower lips, and Hermes wastes no time in trying to rut up against it, rubbing his swollen cock up against the semi-solid smoke, desperate to find friction against where he's aching and throbbing in need. Charon can feel the way at the same time that his lover swallows and drools around the intrusion to his mouth and throat, and the way his thighs shake as he's almost overwhelmed, filled at both ends by his lover and unable to even firmly stand on his own two feet.

Charon takes a moment to withdraw from his lover's mouth then, earning himself a pitiful whine of regret from the shorter God. 

"Gghhuhhh," he growls out, his smoke ceasing to move inside the other until he gets a proper response.

"I'm fine, stop worrying, love. Or at least, I *was* fine until you stopped face-fucking m-" Hermes gets out before the smoke forces its way back into his mouth, this time finding a slow but forceful rhythm against his tongue. It forces the messenger God to suck over the strange substance, swallowing around it again and again to stop too much of a build up of saliva. Of course, he wouldn't choke in any meaningful way, not with Charon here to mislay any ticket to the Underworld should it crop up on his list. 

The smoke between his thighs starts to move as well now, working in tandem so Charon can slowly fuck his throat and cunt as one. The relentless movements have Hermes moaning again, more desperately this time - as muffled as it is. Charon lets his pace build bit by bit, calculating every movement in response to the building crescendo of his lover's garbled, muffled sounds around the heavy smoke on his tongue. It doesn't take long before he can feel the other God's cunt clenching and fluttering around himself, the sounds stopping for a moment as Hermes's cheeks grow a bright pink and he almost stops breathing entirely for a second as he comes with an intense, tensed up silence that finally gives way to the gasps of breath that Charon allows when he removes the smoke from Hermes's throat.

Charon teases a low growl as he slowly withdraws his smoke from the other God's oversensitive cunt, and Hermes flushes brighter and pouts at the accurate statement that it's the only way Charon can guarantee to shut him up for a second. Another, quieter growl leaves the other's bone and smoke maw, and Hermes's pout gives way to tender affection. His hand comes up to cup the other's cold, hollow cheek and his sandals help him flutter up to place a sweet and gentle kiss to his exposed teeth. When the smoke leaves on Charon's next exhale, it curls and loops in the air.


End file.
